


won't take you so far

by rotsquad



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Drabble, Dubious Consent, M/M, based after issue 47, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5295065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotsquad/pseuds/rotsquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the movies told him what love was and wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	won't take you so far

**Author's Note:**

> quick drabble because I got the feels™

Sometimes Tailgate wondered if he'd find love.

Next, he wondered what love felt like. In his short few weeks alive he never really questioned it. He did his job and what he was told. However even then he always had a desire to be admired, to get attention. He would do what he could to achieve these goals, but still never really understood them. He just knew that he'd look at others woth their own relationships of various kinds and feel envy twitching through his spark.

Even after six million years that feeling never went away. He came into the world once more with a bang and a renewed sense of emotion and even less of an understanding of himself and the world around him. Oh, others had tried to help, but it had not made up for so much loss.

Some confused him more than they helped. Some like Cyclonus, who told him no lies yet made his spark swirl in confusion. He had only wanted attention and admiration fron this mech. Though he also wanted this from everyone else, why was he different? Why did his need become neverending, when did it becone so pinpointed and specific that he could tell what he wanted and not just a vague feeling for the first time? Was this love? He still didn't know.

His questions began to fade as time went on, and he learned more. He watched movies and read texts about romance (all from Rewind and later from a too eager Swerve), and they were nothing like he felt. The feelings were warm and beautiful. The beings in them were happy and showed their love in ways Tailgate never had, and in ways he doubted the other ever would. These people where not sharp, needy and loud. They were soft, compassionate and brought about an unknown ache in his spark. He was sure that he was not in love, that he was just infatuated with the mere concept of getting the other to give him attention. The movies told him that love wouldn't hurt, and the movies were not wrong. 

He would settle for the friendship he wanted and would love to give. That was what he feelings must be.

The questions arose again when Getaway came along. This bot was larger than life and everything that Tailgate dreamed. He was encouraging, asked questions and even showed genuine interest in everything about him. He acted just like one of the protagnists in the romance movies, but combined with one from one if those human spy movies, Tailgate thought. It was obvious why others liked him.

The flutter in his spark came back and he tried to ignore the vague sense of dread behind it.

Of course it was easy too as soon as the other activated his voice box. Tailgate would find himself lost in the stories and even moreso the comments towards himself. They'd sit and talk for hours, with Getaway adding more and more to every story and comment while Tailgate additions consisted of various sounds of amusment and wonder. When they drank it happened more intensely, though Tailgate usually found their conversations taking an uncomfortable turn. Getaway would talk about things that Tailgate had liked to stop thinking about, but reassure him that it was fir his own good. That Getaway was trying to protect him. He'd go from holding his hands in excitement to moving them to other places. Slowly down his arms and wait until Tailgate would untense to keep moving.

Everytime his spark pulsed, spun and pushed harder and he kept pushing down the feeling of dread building in his chest and up his throat. He never fought, he never thought it was wrong. This was what the movies told him love was and they hadn't lied so far.

Every time the other would get more confident, would expose himself more. Tailgate in turn would let down his own guard, the worrying feeling turning into a gentle numbness inside him. He no longer recognised the feeling that something was wrong and when he felt it he labeled it as his own attraction and loyalty towards Getaway. He would scooch closer, as if listening to his every word and responding to his every touch would remedy the twisted feeling.

It never did.

One night, Getaway took him to his room. Took him there with promises and stories and everything that made the pounding numbness in his chest come back. When he gave him the gifts (which fascinated Tailgate, if he were to be honest) and told him about the four acts, the questions came back full force and the feeling started to crawl up his throat like bile. Getaways words remained soft towards him but his eyes became sharp. His tone became loud. His hands became needy as he desperatley grabbed and gestured, putting on a show of fright and desperation. Of wanting Tailgate to do what he thought would prove his love and commit to a cause.

Tailgate listened desperately, taking in everything with a heightened sebse of worry. He thought fast and hard as Getaway went on, and came to a sobering realisation.

He had not found love, but obligation.


End file.
